


Exposure on Mox 17

by laverna_aurelius



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Banter, F/M, Far Future, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Mystery, Original Universe, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laverna_aurelius/pseuds/laverna_aurelius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A malfunction in the TARDIS leaves Clara and the Doctor stranded on a living planet where things are much worse than they seem, and they already seem pretty dreadful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Emergency" Landing

Clara was absolutely furious. Unequivocally livid. Completely and utterly exasperated beyond what she thought capable for a human body to handle.

"Let's go to the planet Azeron, he says. It's a lovely place full of underwater cities and glowing beaches and mermaids. You're a woman. Surely you like that silly stuff." Clara yelled in frustration, quoting the Doctor's persuasive, albeit a tad sexist, speech as to why they should visit the planet. As a matter of fact, she did like mermaids and glowing beaches and cities under the sea. It all sounded lovely and had absolutely nothing to do with her sex.

That wasn't the point. Clara had a sneaking suspicion that she was nowhere near Azeron. She'd seen the damn thing from space. It was blue and shined like a sunrise. This place was dark, damp, and disgusting.

She began laughing, her body breaking down into a fit of anxious giggles that sounded a hell of lot more like choking sobs. She was waist-deep in fowl smelling, glittering sludge. The mud had claimed her new shoes during the first few steps after her horribly ungraceful fall. Now she could feel the slimy floor with her toes, it shifted and shivered beneath her feet, giving Clara the impression that whatever it was she was walking across was sentient.

She'd just wanted a vacation. Was that really too much to ask? Her students were trudging unsuccessfully through their mid-term evaluations, her love life was confusing and seemingly nonexistent, and now she was alone in the middle of a living forest, drowning in the universe's smelliest, shiniest mud.

And where in the bloody hell was the Doctor? She had been literally thrown out of the TARDIS, catapulted like a rag doll into this hell. Clara rarely even felt the effects of flying, so for the equilibrium to be so off that she could be thrown from the ship was saying a lot.

There were trees, or something similar to them, crouching over her in every direction, so their was a chance that this planet had a similar atmosphere to Earth, but it was impossible to know for sure judging by the colors of the plants around her. They weren't green, far from it. They were dark, jewel shades of maroon, purple, and teal. Even the mud was different. It looked like dirty, liquid gold, and sparkled like it as well, though it still gave off the most pungent odor.

The coloration made Clara think that the TARDIS must be nearby, providing her with a blanket of breathable air. That gave Clara a little comfort. She really really didn't want to die on some faraway, nightmarish Dr Seuss marshland today.

Clara braved a glance at her dress. She'd been getting ready for a date when the Doctor popped in, and it broke her heart to know that the new article of clothing would be reduced to smelly rags. Her eyes widened, growing so large that for a moment they might have popped right out of her skull. There was something eating her dress. The sparkles weren't sparkles at all. They were alive and they were crawling all over her body and consuming the clothes off her back.

Tiny pieces of glitter were literally eating her outfit. She screamed. It was an awful sound that tore painfully up her throat and burst forth from her mouth like a badly tuned marching band. It was jarring and terrified and hurt her own ears to hear.

Yanking her hands from the mud, she vainly tried to brush away the parasites, but upon feeling the smoothness of her skin, she realized in horror that they were also eating her hair. The screams became more frantic as images of her without hair or eyelashes flashed across her mind. She clambered onto the nearest tree branch and began shaking violently, cursing her vanity.

Then, like a gift from god, a rush of scalding hot water rained down on her body, and the prickly feeling of being covered in a million little bugs disappeared, a wheeze of steam rising from her skin in their wake. She glanced up and saw the Doctor holding out his hand to her, anxiety deepening the lines of his face. She grabbed it gratefully, joyous tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as he hoisted her into the precariously floating blue box. The TARDIS almost seemed wary to let Clara in, like she was scared of this planet. Odd.

He flung her inside and slammed the door shut behind her, immediately returning to the dash, worrying his eyebrows into a frown. "Something is wrong with the TARDIS. She isn't holding herself together and the parts she needs are broken."

Clara had a billion questions, but the cold interior of the TARDIS left her exposed skin covered in goosebumps. "Oh my god, I'm naked!" she gasped, trying to cover herself, too stunned and confused to move an inch.

"Oh keep your clothes on," scolded the Doctor with a wolfish grin. "It's nothing we haven't seen before."

He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it to her, though the cut left very little to the imagination, it would suffice because she needed to find out what in the hell was going on before thinking about clothes.

A lurch sent Clara flying forward and she crashed into the Doctor, who simply grasped her shoulders and pressed her against his willowy frame, only needing one hand to manually steer.

"I thought she could rebuild herself. Make new parts," Clara choked out, her breathing cut off from his vice-like grip. It was the closest thing to a hug she was going to get, so she begrudgingly allowed it.

"Normally she can, yes, but there's a malfunction. We have to land as soon as possible so I can take a better look, but this planet isn't safe. We need to find a city."

"What planet is this exactly? And why isn't it safe?"

"Technically it's a moon. We're on Mox 17, the only moon of Azeron. It's not safe because there are tiny organisms living on the planet's surface that feast on various extra-terrestrial, organic materials, which I'm sure you've noticed. Fur, wood, cotton, being a few examples from Earth alone. They're not unlike maggots and you landed in a nest of them."

Bile rose up her throat, but her purging was disrupted by another violent lurch. Instead of falling backwards, Clara remained in place by the Doctor's hold. She looked at him through dizzy eyes, her vision swimming back and forth. "Wood? But I saw trees back there.."

The Doctor gave her a grave look. "Those were not trees, Clara."

She shuddered, too terrified to ask, and instead chose to press her wet hair into the Doctor's chest and wait for a plan.

....

"We should be in the middle of Europa, a human colony built high above the surface of Mox 17. If I'm correct, that is. And I always am."

"Except for that o-"

The Doctor hushed her immediately with a long, slender finger across her smirking lips and gave her a look that was made all the more evil by his cartoonishly angry eyebrows.

"Now now, Clara. Nobody likes a fibber." He removed his finger and straightened his newly dried jacket.

"Are you sure nothing out there is going to eat my clothes or my hair, Doctor?" Clara asked warily.

"Not entirely positive, but I suspect that these humans learned their lesson, which is why they are so far from the planet's surface."

"Why would they live on this miserable dump if Azeron is so close?"

"According to this." The Doctor pointed to the monitor as though that were enough explanation. "They are the Separatists that broke away from the Kingdom of Azeron. They scattered to the moons and colonized there."

"Moons? As in plural? I thought you said there was only one."

"Honestly, Clara, don't be daft. Would you name a moon 17 if there were only one?"

She reigned in her anger and sighed slowly. "So then what happened to the other moons?"

"Now that," the Doctor grinned, "is the right question. It doesn't say, so I suppose we'll have to figure it out ourselves. Ready?"

"Doctor," she bit out. "Were we ever going to Azeron?"

He rolled his eyes with a scoff and fixed her in place with an icy glare. "I didn't purposefully break the TARDIS and throw you into a pit of starving, sparkling maggots if that's what you're insinuating, Clara."

His tone left absolutely no room for argument, but Clara didn't believe him. She stuck her nose in the air and stalked past him. "I'm sure my being naked was just a happy coincidence, then," she tossed over her shoulder before throwing open the door and stomping outside. Her frightened scream soon followed.


	2. All according to plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's reading this. I've binged on many a Big Finish drama and possibly many more audiobooks all pertaining to Doctor Who. I spent enough money that I decided to just write for awhile. Please kindly excuse the few errors I let slip past me.  
> R&R  
> xoxo

In a flash, Clara was back inside the TARDIS, hand over her chest as her face was frozen with shock. She leaned against the door and fixed a glare on the Doctor. 

"They're naked. They're all naked," she breathed accusingly, as though it were the Doctor's fault. 

"You just had your clothes eaten away. Are you surprised that they are naked?"

"And bald. Completely. Head to toe. Not a single strand."

He tutted in disapproval. "I didn't peg you for such a conservative thinker."

Her jaw dropped, anger replacing her shock. "I'm not.. I just.. I was surprised is all! You could have warned me!"

"Yes. I suppose I could have." 

Clark's hand twitched with unchecked rage, wishing she could teleport to the console fast enough to give him a good smack. You're better than that, Clara.

With a deep breath, she centered herself and calmly strode to his side. 

"Well, is there any point of wearing clothes at all then?"

"I'm sure by now they have developed clothing to suit their needs, however it's probably only for the wealthy or the military."

Clara huffed impatiently. "Can't you just look it up?" She gestured to the monitor vaguely.

"I'm afraid the Old Girl has completely entered self repair mode at this moment, and will be until we either find a replacement part or she finishes herself. Which could take weeks."

"I thought those little... Bug things were all at the surface, far below us."

The Doctor shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Yes, but maybe they weren't always so far above the surface. We'll just have to find out."

He brushed passed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along. Clara blindly followed, as she often did, and glared daggers into the back of his head, as she also often did.

Once outside, they discovered both of them were quite right. Dozens of smooth-skinned, bare bodies weaved through the maze-like streets. A few people donned clothes made of a shiny, unearthly material, but it was clear that the Doctor had been right in assuming it was a luxury of the military.

Tall, glimmaring buildings, appeared to be made of plastic, towered overhead as a large, yellow sun illuminated the structures until they seemed to sparkle. 

Save for a few passers-by, Clara and the Doctor went entirely unnoticed. Most people were walking with purpose, clutching communicators tightly and growling in hushed tones as they did so. 

It struck Clara as very odd that in such a bustling, seemingly developed city there would be such rampant... Nudism? Poverty? She couldn't figure it out, but she could lie and say it didn't bother her, despite the fact that she felt altogether uncomfortable. 

Although large and imposing, the buildings were beautiful, but at a second glance they almost looked inexpensive and unstable, as though they were erected quickly. There was no form of transportation save for a solar-powered trolley that ran through the middle of an otherwise empty street. 

Everything appeared to be constructed out of the same cheap, iridescent plastic material. And though most people were hairless and unclothed, they didn't appear entirely comfortable about it. Some of the younger children had full heads of hair, so their wasn't anything genetic about the hairloss. It must have been caused by those bugs. Does the hair simply never grow back?

Clara eyed her arm again. Once, scattered wisps of thick chestnut hair peppered her arms and it probably never would again. In fact, she didn't have a single strand of hair below her shoulders. Luckily her hair had been up. Some women might have been thrilled at the prospect of a hairless body, but Clara just felt violated and robbed, and as the bright sunlight was beating down and she began to sweat, she felt distinctly slimy as well.

"Stop fidgeting." The Doctor scolded over his shoulder.

"Where are we even going?" She asked a tad petulantly. 

"We're following that rather official-looking woman just up ahead." 

He pointed and Clara followed the direction of his finger, eyes searching until she found who the Doctor had been referring to. The woman was incredibly tall with skin as dark as sand after dusk. She wore a shiny uniform that hugged her muscular frame. Each step was taken with the strength and precision of someone who had spent many years in the military. 

It wasn't easy tailing after the military woman. Her height made her stick out, as did her attire, but she was quick and graceful, easily side-stepping every obstacle that would have tripped up another person, i.e. Clara and sometimes even the Doctor.

"Do you always have to go with the direct approach?" asked Clara, a little breathlessly. "I mean, will they even have what you're looking for?"

"These people come from one of the most technologically advanced human civilizations in the universe,"retorted the Doctor, clearly unimpressed to be explaining anything more.

A thought struck Clara with sudden intensity, but she held her tongue until they reached a stopping point. After another ten minutes of walking, the pair followed the woman to what appeared to be a military compound. The Doctor stopped abruptly as she went inside and turned to face Clara.

"What is it you wish to say? You're practically vibrating with anxiety and it's incredibly off-putting."

Clara was surprised and couldn’t help but wonder if the Doctor had been reading her mind. But he wouldn't, would he? Would this man, still so new yet so familiar dare to invade her thoughts?

"I just realized something. Why did the TARDIS suddenly break? Isn't that incredibly strange?"

His icy blue eyes darkened slightly, and his gravelly voice dropped a register to match his suspicious expression. "That's exactly what I want to find out."

Clara nodded knowingly and straightened up, prepared to follow the Doctor's lead. 

They walked up to the gate and were immediately greeted by a very stern woman with harsh, unforgiving eyes. She had skin tanned and worn with inky black hair tied into a tight braid. Like the other woman, she was incredibly tall, towering over Clara and having to tilt her head ever so slightly downwards to face the Doctor. 

She was confused, but hid it well.

"State your business immediately or be escorted off the premises," she said in a short, clipped tone.

Not breaking eye contact, the Doctor reached slowly into his breast pocket to retrieve a familiar, worn leather wallet. 

Clara saw the woman’s hand twitch in the direction of a rather large gun made of the same familiar plastic material and she immediately tensed despite herself. 

With her free hand, the woman reached for the wallet and stared closely at its contents, confusion becoming all the more evident on her face. 

"You're an ambassador from IPTRA?" she mused, feigning boredom. 

Clara puzzled over what she assumed to be an acronym for only a second before the Doctor responded. 

"Yes. We're from the Intergalactic Peace Treaty Regulation Alliance. I'm the Doctor and this is my assis-" He faltered, coughing in surprise as Clara dug her sharp elbow into his side. "My partner, Clara."

For the first time since they had arrived, the woman looked Clara dead in the eye and the young brunette fought the chill that threatened to roll down her spine and managed a brilliant but tight smile.

"Who called you? We don't need any bureaucrats interfering with matters of the state."

"Well apparently you do." drawled the Doctor. "Because we're here. I don't expect a glorified security guard to even be privy to matters of the state. So why don't you make yourself useful and escort us inside?"

The woman took a step back, as though the affront had been dealt physically, her look of shock taking ten years off her face. 

She reached behind her and pulled out an object that Clara recognized immediately as a taser. To her surprise and chagrin, the Doctor didn't react and Clara understood his plan and begrudgingly obliged with a silent, worried nod.

Pulling another, smaller one out from her pocket, the military woman switched on the tiny defensive weapons and Clara watched with horror as they lit up with blue, crackling electricity. One made contact with her abdomen just as the Doctor was crumbling to the ground, then the world went black.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Let me know!


End file.
